Russian Roulette
by Caelitea
Summary: Well, that's one way to get a suitable partner. —Kid, Liz, Patty and how Kid convinces the Thompson sisters to join him.


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"_Russian roulette__ is a potentially lethal game of chance in which one places a single round in a revolver, spins the cylinder, places the muzzle against their head and pulls the trigger."  
—Wikipedia_

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Death the Kid has come a long way from Death City into the backstreets of Brooklyn. Not to mention, he's had to deal with numerous thieves and gangsters and prostitutes who've stopped him from trying to get to where he wants to be. He takes care of them easily, but it's still an annoying hassle.

But here he finally is: the goal of his travels.

Sort of, anyway.

He's backed up against the wall of one of the darkest alleyways with two beautiful girls blocking his path, Elizabeth and Patricia Thompson. His goal was to find them, so goal completed, but being in a situation such as this one isn't really part of his plan. Oh well. As long as he gets what he wants in the end.

"Partners?" Elizabeth sneers after he explains his reason for coming. She puts her face close to his in attempt to ruffle him; he can smell the cigarettes on her breath. "Why the fuck d'ya think we'd go with some snotty rich kid like you?"

Patricia laughs, and Kid thinks that she might be high. Off of what, he's not really sure.

"We could just slit your throat now and strip you down," Elizabeth continues, snarling. "Cut you open, sell your organs to the black market. Gouge out your eyes—I'm sure there are a shitload of people who're willing to pay a pretty penny for your pretty little golden eyes."

Kid regards her calmly. "But you haven't done so yet, so that must mean something within my proposal is appealing to you, Elizabeth."

She growls at him, punching the wall behind him. "_Don't fucking call me that_, you hear me?"

There is something defensive in her tone, and Kid sighs. Briefly, he wonders why she is avoiding touching him.

"Fine, I shall refer to you as Liz, if you prefer that."

He knew that the girls preferred Liz and Patty; he just assumed that he should at least start out polite and not overly friendly.

Liz growls at him again, and weighs her options. If they went with the kid, Patty could live a happy life with a full stomach and tailored clothes. At night, Patty could sleep in a soft bed instead of the cold concrete, shivering next to Liz for warmth. They could go with the kid, milk him dry.

But Liz isn't quite so sure yet. He looked nice but he could easily turn nasty and use them for sex slaves instead, or sell them off to some other bastard. Liz would easily take her life here over that, where she and Patty ruled the streets, instead of being thrown into that kind of life without a chance to escape. Liz will never let anything like that happen to Patty. And besides, she isn't anywhere near submissive to simply go with him without a little…test.

"We'll go with you," she begins, and watches the kid's face light up. She smirks. "If you play one game with me."

Kid raises his eyebrow, willing to indulge her. Patty is giggling madly in the background. "Oh?" he asks.

Liz's hand goes to her belt, where she keeps a small array of guns. She chooses the revolver, fully loaded with bullets. She grins widely and holds the gun out.

"Russian roulette," she says, and the rich boy's face darkens into a serious expression. Obviously it's her own revolver so she knows it's loaded with bullets. They'll kill him if he refuses, and when he dies they'll strip him down and take his clothes and wallet. Maybe they'll take his eyes. But they'll leave his dissection for his organs to someone else.

Patty starts laughing, because she is thinking the same thing. The kid can't win. They'll be eating good tonight.

But then he startles them both by smiling and saying, "Fine by me."

Patty shuts up and stares at him with wide eyes. Liz narrows her own, suspicious, but knowing full well that she has put all the odds against him.

They watch as he calmly as he rotates the cylinder a few times and then puts the revolver to his head and pulls the trigger.

The sound of a gunshot goes off—_he did it, he really did it, my god he didn't even hesitate!_—and he falls back a bit from the recoil. Liz expects to see his body crumple to the ground, and Patty is watching with a serious expression as she waits for the blood because it's her favorite part.

But Kid straightens himself out and places the revolver back into Liz's still-outstretched hand. He smiles.

"Satisfied?"

The Thompson sisters gape. The kid is alive. A thin trickle of blood runs down the side of his face, but he wipes it off and he looks perfect and pristine as if it never happened. He holds up his hand and reveals the bullet but how did it get there because they definitely saw him aim it towards his head and press the trigger, it definitely hit him yet somehow he is alive and he has the bullet in his hand even though he should've blown his brains out at that range.

"What the fuck _are_ you?" Liz gasps, taking a step back, staring into his golden eyes with more wonder than fear. "You fucking _monster_!"

Kid sighs, and shakes his head. "I'm a Death God. Simple toys like that aren't enough to kill me. Now I've played your game, will you come with me?"

Liz regards him once more. She does have to give him credit. Putting a gun to your head like that when you're aware that all the odds are against you, no matter who or what you are, isn't easy. And he's dealt with the girls quite well, considering they were trying to give him a tough time (and then kill him). She shouldn't really call him a monster—she and Patty are both technically monsters and have dealt with the cruelty that comes with it.

So she considers once more. She glances over at Patty, who has her eyes fixated on the kid with a rare serious expression, but her eyes was brimming with something that is probably respect. Liz feels it too. Respect for this dignified boy whose feathers are hard to ruffle.

Elizabeth Thompson sighs, puts the revolver back into her belt, and says "Okay."

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**Author's Notes: **Eh…something simple that just came to my head, I guess. Something that was just fun to write. I kind of feel like it's a bit lacking but hey, tell me what you think.  
The idea was triggered by Megurine Luka's (VOCALOID) "Russian Roulette" song, no pun intended. It's my first time writing something that focuses on Kid, Liz, and Patty, so sorry for any glaring OOC-ness. :/  
I'm also horrible at slang/street talk, otherwise Liz would be speaking in a "tougher" fashion, and Patty would actually be saying stuff instead of laughing. D:  
I'm also not really sure how Kid's body works, Wiki says that simple cuts and gunshot wounds are nothing for him but I'm not sure pulling the trigger with the gun at your head is a simple wound. So I guess how he survived is up for you to interpret?


End file.
